Marvel's Captain America: Sub Rosa

by David McDonald

  As he continued to defend himself, Steve racked his brain, trying to remember everything he knew about Taskmaster. He knew from their last encounter that Taskmaster had memorized the techniques of a wide range of fighters, many of whom Steve assumed the villain had actually fought. But he’d also already seemed familiar with Steve’s style even before they’d started fighting, so Steve had to think that Taskmaster had studied footage of Captain America; there was certainly enough of it on the news or floating around the internet. He thought quickly, knowing his only chance was to find a technique that Taskmaster couldn’t have seen.

  While he warded off Taskmaster’s counterattack, a memory came back to Steve from the days before he had been Captain America, when he had simply been Steve Rogers. Instead of being faster and stronger than those around him, he had been a weakling, prey to the neighborhood bullies. Not a week had gone by that he hadn’t come home with a bloodied nose or a split lip, until one day his best friend had decided he’d seen enough. Bucky had been everything Steve was not—muscular, athletic, and popular with the girls. He’d defended Steve when he could, but he’d also taught Steve some dirty tricks for when he couldn’t, and to rely on his brains instead of trying to match his opponent’s brawn. Right now, Rogers was a long way from the tough streets of New York where they’d grown up, and Steve could only hope Taskmaster had never been in a street fight on the Lower East Side.

  Steve began to favor his right arm, wincing every time he threw a punch and deliberately pulling back the power of his blows, and reacting just the slightest bit slower when he used that arm to block, giving the occasional gasp of pain on impact. Taskmaster noticed the apparent weakness, and focused his attacks on Steve’s right side, pressing home his advantage. Steve fell back step after step, allowing Taskmaster to drive him toward the wall. Growing in confidence, Taskmaster ignored his defense, throwing punch after punch at Rogers, raining down blow after blow on Steve’s right side. Finally, he overextended one time too many, and Steve’s left hand darted out, grabbing the other man’s shirt.

  Caught off balance, Taskmaster could do nothing as Steve pulled him in close and slammed his forehead into the bridge of Taskmaster’s nose with all the power he could summon. With a sickening crunch, the cartilage broke and blood gushed from the man’s nose. Taskmaster staggered back, dropping his guard, and Steve took his chance, slamming his first brutally into the other man’s stomach. Winded, Taskmaster battled to block the barrage of punches as Steve worked him over, fists pounding into the other man’s ribs and torso again and again. Finally, Taskmaster slumped forward and Steve caught him, pulling him into another head butt, even more vicious than the last. This time, Taskmaster’s eyes rolled up into his head and he went limp in Steve’s grip. Rogers let him fall, and staggered back to lean against the wall, gasping for breath.

  “That’s what we called a ‘Bucky kiss,’ back in the good old days. One of the many important lessons he taught me.”

  The only reply he got was Taskmaster’s labored breathing, and Steve sighed in relief. He hadn’t wanted to kill the man, only put him out of commission.

  “I’m sorry I can’t hang around to chat, but I really do have someplace else to be. What am I going to do with you, though?”

  Steve ran back down the corridor to where he and Karl had left the guards. Rolling one of them over, Steve grabbed the handcuffs hanging on his belt. Taskmaster scrabbled weakly at Steve’s hands as Rogers pulled the man’s hands behind his back, but he was too weak to resist, and Steve soon had him securely bound. He dragged Taskmaster into one of the cells and fastened him to a chair.

  “That should keep you out of trouble.”

  Rogers ran into the elevator and peered at the control panel. There was no mystery—the bottom button was labeled Bunker. Steve could only wish that all of the villains he had fought over the years had been so considerate. But, labeling it a bunker did little to prepare Steve for the sheer size of it when the elevator doors opened. The space had once been a vast, natural cavern almost the size and shape of a football field, and it was still dotted with stalactites and stalagmites the size of redwoods. But the natural features of the cavern were obscured by platforms that had been built around them or suspended from the cavern roof. This created several levels of storage, where Steve could make out weapons racks and shelves of food.

  The closest platform to the elevator was attached to the roof by thick metal pylons, so that at first sight it seemed to float unsupported, almost directly above Steve. His view was limited by the angle, but he could make out what looked like a smaller version of the control room upstairs. The only way up was a set of steel stairs that were currently retracted and stowed on the platform itself, almost twenty-five feet off the ground.

  Steve didn’t have much time to take in the engineering feats of the cavern. There were soldiers everywhere, some in the anonymous black of Ex Umbra, but they were coming under heavy fire from a new group, and these soldiers bore the familiar S.H.I.E.L.D. insignia. The Ex Umbra troops were holding the platforms farther in the cavern, laying down blankets of withering fire as S.H.I.E.L.D. forces tried to advance using every available feature of the cavern as cover. Behind him, he could hear S.H.I.E.L.D. reinforcements pouring from the stairwells on either side of the elevator.

  Steve scanned the rest of the cavern in the hope of finding his companions. At its far end was a pair of massive steel doors built into the rock of the cave wall, on either side of which a mix of vehicles ranging from jeeps and motorcycles to a number of the ubiquitous M35 cargo trucks—the model commonly known as a deuce and a half—were lined up. All of the vehicles were neatly arranged and the spaces were all full, giving no sign of a hasty exodus, and leading Steve to hope he was not too late.

  The opposing forces’ attention was on the occupied platforms, and Steve was able to make his way unobserved to the stalagmite on the other side of the control platform. Movement above him caught his eye, and he looked up to see Karl and Jonah facing off. Jonah sported a large purple bruise on the side of his face and blood trickled from his nose. He pointed a pistol up into the beams of the artificial ceiling that arched over the platform, and where Steve could just make out the shadowy form of Katherine wedged into the angle where two beams met. Her arms were bound in front of her and she was gagged, and Steve realized Karl must have lifted her up there in an attempt to keep her safe. Steve pulled his shield from his back and sent it skimming through the air. He’d aimed for Jonah’s head, but at the last minute Jonah turned, perhaps distracted by the flicker of motion at the corner of his eye. The shield hit his gun instead, knocking it neatly out of his hand and sending it spinning off the edge of the platform, while the shield ricocheted and returned to Steve’s hand.

  From where he stood, Steve could hear Jonah’s curse, and Rogers watched as the former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent pulled out the twin staves he had wielded so well during their earlier encounter. The Tasers in Karl’s hands looked insubstantial in comparison, and Steve looked around for a way to get up to help him, a remote control for the stairs, anything. As he watched, Jonah launched a blistering attack, staves flickering out. Karl danced back, weaving out of the way of each strike, but Steve could see it was only a matter of time before one connected. He pulled his shield from his back, but was unable to get a clear throw at Jonah as the two combatants wheeled around each other.

  One of the staves came down on Karl’s forearm with a sickening snap loud enough to carry all the way to the ground. Steve winced as he watched Karl trying not to let what must have been excruciating pain slow him down. Jonah drove him back toward the edge of the platform, each lunge sending Karl back another step; he was slowly but surely running out of room. Steve’s eyes flicked up to the roof above the two men, his attention caught by Katherine’s stealthy movements. Inch by inch, she crept along the beam, hampered by her bonds. Twice she slipped and almost fell, and Steve could only imagine the determination that was keeping he
r going. Moving along the beam would have been hard enough on its own, but with her hands tied, she had no way of steadying herself—or of protecting herself should she fall.

  Finally, she was directly above the combatants, and she slowly straightened, her body quivering with the effort. She stood motionless for a moment, and Steve’s perfect vision could make out how wide her eyes were. She took a deep breath, then, just as Jonah wound back his arm to deliver the coup de grâce, dropped from the roof. Her feet hit Jonah square between the shoulders, driving him face first into the steel floor before she tumbled off to the side. Jonah started to lift himself up, and then collapsed, lying motionless. Katherine staggered to her feet, and stumbled over to Karl, who simply stood, cradling his arm and staring at her in amazement. She fell against him, and he wrapped his good arm around her in a clumsy embrace.

  Chapter 18

  Bunker, Ex Umbra Headquarters: 1600 hours

  Steve waited for the stairs to descend, and the moment they touched the ground he almost ran up them.

  “Katherine, Karl, are you okay?”

  “Thanks to her we are,” Karl said, looking at Katherine with naked admiration. “I thought I was in a bit of trouble there. Talk about b—, I mean, guts.”

  Steve had already freed Katherine’s mouth from the gag, and she gave Karl a weak smile before gasping at the pain of blood flow returning to her hands as Steve removed her restraints. He turned to Karl, who winced as Steve checked his forearm, gently running his hand along the ex-Marine’s forearm. It was a clean break, and Steve quickly bound it with a strip of cloth ripped from Jonah’s shirt, and fashioned a sling using the unconscious man’s belt. Jonah was out cold and showed no signs of stirring.

  “I don’t think we need to worry about him waking up anytime soon,” Steve said. “You really did a number on him.”

  “Think that’s good, you should have seen her before,” Karl said. “When I caught up with them, he had a gun on her. She managed to twist free and club him in the face with her bound hands. She got up one of those pylons before he could recover.”

  “Couldn’t let you two have all the fun,” Katherine said. “So, where to now?”

  “Out those big doors?” Karl asked.

  Steve shook his head. “I have no idea how to open them, or where they even go. Plus, I want to cause some mayhem on the way out. I vote we head back up and see what mischief we can get up to.”

  “Speaking of mayhem, I see you managed to deal with your friend,” Karl said. He leaned over and pulled the gun from Jonah’s shoulder holster.

  “Your friend?” Katherine asked in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

  “Remember the guy who gate-crashed our apartment?” She nodded. “He came back looking for a rematch.”

  “How did you manage without me to help you out?”

  “With great difficulty,” Steve said, smiling. “Don’t get too cocky, though, just because you laid out Jonah here.”

  “I’ll do my best,” she said.

  Suddenly a huge explosion blew out the big doors at the far end of the cavern, sending vehicles flying. One of the cargo trucks flipped end over end, coming to rest in pyre of black smoke and fire. More S.H.I.E.L.D. troops poured in through the rent, laying down withering fire on the Ex Umbra troops. Reinforced, the S.H.I.E.L.D. forces started clearing the platforms one by one, but the defenders fought with undiminished ferocity, only giving ground slowly. Even as the platforms were cleared, the Ex Umbra forces used the boulders and stalagmites that littered the cavern floor as cover, fighting with the skill of troops on familiar terrain. As the currents of the battle swept toward Steve and his friends, bullets pinged off the railings of the control platform, and the companions threw themselves to the steel floor.

  For a moment, Steve entertained thoughts of trying to simply sneak past the troops to make their escape, but seeing the soldiers in the S.H.I.E.L.D. insignia under fire reminded him of too many past battles at their side. He couldn’t abandon them; it just wasn’t in him to do so. Rogers turned back to the other two and held a finger to his lips, and then gestured for them to follow him. They crept around the perimeter, keeping out of a direct line of sight, until they were directly behind the biggest pocket of Ex Umbra holdouts. The Ex Umbra forces had found cover among a group of boulders, and from this impregnable position were able to prevent the S.H.I.E.L.D. forces from advancing farther.

  Steve turned to Karl. “Lay down some covering fire.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  Steve ignored his question. “Ready? Now!”

  Using his good hand, Karl fired off a few shots, kicking up puffs of smoke and splinters of rock to either side of the enemy. Even before Karl had pulled the trigger, Steve had leaped from the platform, ducking into a commando roll. Using his momentum, he kept moving, sprinting from boulder to boulder, then launching himself into the midst of the Ex Umbra fighters. He carved through them in a whirlwind of red, white, and blue, fists crunching into body armor and his shield deflecting attack after attack. Mere minutes later, he stood alone, surrounded by the bodies of his fallen enemies, his shield raised and shoulders squared.

  “Who’s next?” he asked, looking around the bunker.

  Seeing their last hope conquered, the last few pockets of Ex Umbra surrendered, and soon the area was silent save for the clink of metal as the defeated forces stacked their weapons under the hard, watchful eyes of the S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives.

  Cautiously, Katherine and Karl moved to join Steve. Weapons tracked their progress until one of the S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives stepped forward and gestured for everyone to lower their guns. Whoever it was, they were clad in bulky body armor and a state-of-the-art combat helmet covered their face with a bulletproof plexiglass visor. It was only when they removed the helmet that Steve realized it was Maria. She looked at him levelly, and nodded.

  “Captain.”

  “Maria.”

  Then Katherine ran past him.

  “Aunt Maria!”

  She threw her arms around Maria, who awkwardly returned her embrace, patting her on the back.

  “Hello, Katherine, it’s good to see you,” she said. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

  Katherine stepped back and smiled at her.

  “Only just. It’s been a wild ride.”

  Maria looked at Karl. “And this is?”

  “This is Karl,” Steve said. “We wouldn’t have gotten this far without him.”

  “Not sure that’s true, but I’ll take the credit,” Karl said.

  “Karl? Do you have a last name?” Maria asked.

  “Karl is just fine for now, ma’am,” he replied, eyes suddenly flat and watchful.

  “That’s fine,” Maria said.

  There was an awkward silence, and Steve stepped forward.

  “Maria, you’re a sight for sore eyes. But, I’m curious—how did you find us? And how are you going to be able to justify a raid on a government facility?”

  Steve could have sworn Maria flushed slightly.

  “Are you sure you want me to answer that, Steve?” she asked. “We might be better off leaving it alone.”

  “What do you mean?” Steve asked, baffled. “Why would that be better?”

  “Because you aren’t going to be happy with the answer. Not happy at all.”

  “Try me.”

  She stepped closer to him and reached under his uniform’s cuff, pulling out a black sphere no more than three or four times the size of the head of a match.

  “What is that?” Steve asked. “Is that a tracking device? Have you been tracking me?”

  Maria wouldn’t meet his eye.

  “That’s not just a tracking device,” Karl said. “That’s a very expensive piece of technology that doesn’t simply transmit a tracking signal, but that also acts as a very sensitive microphone.”

  Ste
ve’s head jerked around.

  “What are you saying, Karl?”

  “That they haven’t just been tracking you, Cap, they’ve been listening in on you.”

  “Is this true, Maria? Did you bug me?” Steve could feel himself starting to get angry, and he deliberately tried to tamp it down—but it was still there, waiting.

  “Steve, you have to understand . . .”

  “Is it true?” Now the anger was in his voice, flat and dangerous. “Have you been bugging me?”

  “Yes, Steve, we have,” Maria said. “I’m sorry. I planted that on the sleeve of your jacket at the warehouse. I knew that you have it with you almost all the time.”

  “I don’t understand,” Steve said. “Why would you do something like that without telling me?”

  “Well, it worked out for the best, didn’t it?” she asked defensively. “It meant we knew where you were and we could come in guns blazing. And, most importantly, we got recordings of Jonah admitting to extralegal behavior far beyond the bounds of anything he had been authorized to carry out, and even committing violations of a number of treaties by torturing prisoners. It gave me the proof I needed to go all the way to the top and get the authorization to shut this operation down. Ex Umbra is finished. They’ve embarrassed too many other agencies, and gone far beyond what any politician will turn a blind eye to, and that means whatever political capital they had has evaporated.”

  “That’s not the point!” Steve was almost yelling. “You had no right to do that without my knowledge. I don’t work for you.”

  “No, Captain, you don’t.” Her tone was clipped and precise. “But you work for the United States government. You should remember that.”

  “I’m not your stooge.”